Thirty Seasons Later: Book One: The War Torn Tundra
by Fell's Apprentice
Summary: Devastating losses in the Lands of Ice and Snow force leopard assassin Jethro Mortspear to rethink working for the wolves long-term. An Urthblood Saga Fanfic exploring the continuing Searat wars thirty seasons after Lord Urthblood's death.
1. Bloodfrost

**Thirty Seasons Later : Book One: The War Torn Tundra**

AN: Hello everybeast! A while ago I was reading Highwing's The Shrew War: The Thunder and the Fire and I read the part where Lieutenant Perricone of the Gawtrybe questions whether the war between Badger Lords and searats will ever truly end and what the war would look like with the increasing violence both parties will continue to bring to bear on the other. This story begins some thirty seasons after the death of Lord Urthblood. I hope you enjoy it, please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the world, characters, events, or locations of _Redwall_, Brian Jacques does (God rest his soul). I also do not own the characters, events, or official story line of The Urthblood Saga, I have asked Highwing for permission to use his work as an inspiration for this story and he has given it, but this is not the official continuation of his work and he still owns The Urthblood Saga.

**Chapter One: Bloodfrost**

"_Only the dead have seen the end of war"- Plato_

The whistle of arrows shrieked through the cloudy, lightly snowing sky. The fierce, harsh melody of war created by the crash of weapon on weapon and armor, the squelch of weapons finding their marks, and the shouts and war cries of those still living. Last, but not least, it was made by the agonized screaming, groaning cries of those casualties not yet dead. Ah casualties! The frostbitten earth of the Lands of Ice and Snow was littered with their mangled remains. The corpses of wolves, weasels, otters, mice, stoats, rats, shrews, hedgehogs, foxes, ferrets, voles, mountain hares, wildcats, wolverines, squirrels, ratels, and mongooses lay splayed against one another. The blood leaked from their various wounds, mingling with the blood of friend and foe and staining the frozen ground red, turning the churned up earth into freezing, bloody mud. Above, the scavengers of the air: crows, ravens, and magpies wheeled and cawed hungrily. But despite their hunger, they dared not land. They continued to wait and caw, each eagerly awaiting the end of the brutal contest.

_"I wonder what time it is?"_ The only leopard on the killing fields thought absentmindedly as he traded blows with an axe wielding wolverine. The leopard was black-furred, and slightly smaller than most of its kind. He had dark green eyes and the lean, lithe, muscular form typical of fighting beasts that used styles of combat based upon strength, precision, agility, and leverage. With scars tracing the fur all over his body he had, the look of a beast that had been at war for most of his life. The dark eyed feline was twenty seasons old Jethro Mortspear, a mercenary from a continent to the far southwest.

To the Lands of Ice and Snow the black leopard brought with him from across the seas a band of one hundred of his warriors: mongooses, desert foxes, and ratels. All were armed to the teeth, fully armored, and woefully unprepared for the northern cold. Eventually they were rescued from the harsh winds and freezing blizzards by a wolf pack. The lupine kingdom they served then decided to employ the leopard and his warriors in an invasion of the neighboring wolverine-controlled territory so as to take the evergreen forest and mountains for themselves, which left the Mortspear captain exchanging blows with his axe-swinging opponent.

The leopard gritted his teeth as he caught a particularly strong blow on his shield. The blow knocked him back a few inches, but the leopard rolled with the hit to the outside of the wolverine's swinging gauntleted paw. The enemy had finally over extended, and now he would pay with his life. Jethro stabbed his spear into the juncture between vambrace and upper arm guard through the wolverine's elbow with a back pawed thrust, rendering the paw useless. The wolverine howled in pain as he dropped the axe and grabbed at his elbow, the forearm dangling by a bit of skin and fur as Jethro tore loose his spear. The enemy warrior had only one or two seconds to lament his arm, however, as Jethro swiftly spun his spear around to the normal position and gored his opponent through the flesh where neck meets chin. He jerked his spear out and let the wolverine collapse as a geyser of blood spewed forth from the wound. Jethro quickly glanced around the battlefield to see where an extra warrior might be needed most. His calculating eyes soon found a knot of struggling warriors desperately hacking, stabbing, and slashing at each other. He speedily began to move toward the rival squads only to be stopped in his tracks by a flash of white fur as an opposing ermine leapt at his face with dirk flashing. Momentarily startled, the soldier-of-fortune took a staggering step backwards as he snapped the shield up to protect his face from the strike and jerked his spear forward in a reflexive jab. The spear blade pierced the ermine's chest and came out his back. The foe slid off his spear, an expression of shock stamped upon his face. Jethro shook his head to clear it as he continued his steady lope towards his beleaguered allies. Still a fair distance away, the black leopard flipped the spear around backwards and slowed his gait just long enough to raise his arm, aim, and throw the spear before drawing his long, curved, single-edged sword. Jethro quickened his pace to a run as he drew closer to the melee.

The spear slammed into the chest of an enemy fox, piercing through the two layers of chain mail as if the armor wasn't even there. Twenty seconds later, the leopard smashed into the flank of the enemy force, the first swing of his sword decapitating a ferret and cutting a rat's throat in a single smooth, downward stroke. Twisting, he blocked a mace on his shield and brought the sword back up with a jab. The sword rammed into the chin of a young, snarling wolverine and protruded up from just above and between its eyes like some monstrous unicorn. Tearing out his sword, he turned, bashing a weasel's face with his shield and breaking its nose as he split open the head of his mace-bearing rat attacker with a stoke of his slim, black blade.

His allies now had all the breathing room they needed, and they leapt back into the fray with a will, shouting war cries as they went on the offensive. The foxes and hedgehogs hacked with their axes and machetes. The otters and mongooses stabbed and jabbed with their javelins and spears. With Jethro spearheading the assault, the formerly imperiled soldiers pressed forward and crushed their rivals. The sword-for-hire soon found himself fighting side by side with a mountain hare armed with a scimitar in one paw and a flanged mace in the other. "Bet you chaps never signed up fer this!" Mortspear yelled jokingly to the hare as he slammed a weasel in the chest with the rim of his shield, breaking the mustlide's sternum and capitalizing upon the ineffectiveness of chain mail against blunt force trauma.

"You must be jestin' ol' lad! We've been dyin' to teach these boundahs a lesson or two for seasons, wot! EULALIAAAAA! " The hare replied, blocking a strike from a mattock with his scimitar as he snapped the offending rat's left knee with a single well-placed kick. The rat shrieked with pain as his leg gave way under the blow, but only a half-second later the razor-sharp edges and bone shattering force of the flanged mace put him out of his misery with a blow to the side of the head. The rat's face was torn half-way off by the unforgiving weapon.

"Good hit! Good hit!" The leopard laughed fiercely at his comrade's victory as he decapitated a stoat with an almost casual swipe of his sword. A lull in the battle occurred as one of the northern wildcats finished off the last of the opposing platoon, and Jethro took the opportunity to extend his paw toward the hare, switching the sword to his left paw "Jethro Mortspear, Captain of the Freelancer mercenaries. You are?"

The hare shook his gauntleted paw warmly. "I'm Corporal Smith Jaggs, hundred-and-eighty-first division of the Northern Long Patrols. Never thought I'd say this to a merc, but it's good to meet you. You pulled our chestnuts out o' the fire just in time."

"I'm glad to 'ave been able to. Now if you'll excuse me I 'ave a paycheck to earn." The leopard said with a grin and a nod. The Mortspear Captain rallied his troops with a shout and a wave of his sword and dashed off towards another group of fighting beasts who, although did not need any help in holding their own against the blood-crazed wolverines, were evenly matched against their foes and sudden reinforcements on either side would quickly tip the scales and decide the outcome. The seven mercenaries (eight counting the southern feline) charged towards the embattled wolves and wildcats, silent as the snow and just as bloodstained.

Avek, a twenty-four-seasons old mongoose sergeant armed with a short sword (which in truth was the snapped off head of a glave), snatched one of the twelve throwing knives from one of the two bandoliers he wore across his chest and threw it, whipping the knife through the air as fast as he could. The knife flashed through the air, embedding itself up to its hilt in a broadsword-wielding wolverine's eye.

The wolverine howled in anger and agony, its lupine opponent raised his maul and swiftly brought the crushing weight of the eight pound head of the edged hammer crashing down on top of the tortured wolverine's skull with a sickening CRACK! and a fine mist of blood. The wolf then turned to his partner's opponent, who was far too preoccupied with his dual-saber swinging foe to notice the swinging maul that ended his life with a well-placed blow that severed his spine (and also half of his neck).

The southern mercenaries hit the flank of the wolverine platoon like a hungry hare to a food storage building. Jethro smirked as he drove his retrieved spear through the frothing jaws of a war-crazed wolverine while ducking the horrific threat of his victim's morning star. His ears twitched as he heard the morbid hum of the weapon and felt the soft breeze created as the spiked ball and chain swiped over his head.

Suddenly, a wolverine attacked from his right. Stuck with barely any time to react, Jethro sswung his shield over his right arm to cover his side. His attacker's mace slammed into his shield in an upward strike. The mercenary took a half-step back to help dissipate the force of the blow, or more correctly, he tried to and slipped on a severed paw. Jethro crashed to the ground, landing on his back and gasped for air as the breath was driven from his lungs. His spear, levered between the gore-covered earth and the rim of his shield, broke in two with a loud SNAP! The berserk wolverine raised his mace over his head and struck with a roar. Jethro tensed as the mace met his shield in a terrifying display of force. _"Shit, he has got me where he wants me now."_

As it turned out, Jethro needn't have worried. . . sort of. The wolverine got two more blows in before Avek came out of nowhere and blindsided the wolverine. The fearless mongoose drove his short sword beep into the enemy's thick neck. The wolverine howled in pain and fury, snatching the mongoose off his shoulder in his gauntleted paw with a vise-like grip and crushing force. Avek gasped in pain at the force being applied to his ribs and frantically stabbed the wolverine through the narrow gap between gauntlet and vambrace with one of his knives. The foe bellowed and hurled the mongoose through the air as he sank to his knees. Avek's form, hurtling through the air, struck a mouse, killing the rodent instantly. Avek didn't get up either.

Jethro grabbed a battle-axe from the nerveless paws of a dead wildcat and came up swinging. The axe sheared through the wolverine's helmet, finishing it off as it lodged itself deeply into his nemesis' brain. The leopard wasted no time, dashing to where Avek had landed. He left the axe where it was.

Jethro knelt beside his sergeant. "Sergeant Avek, respond. Are you okay?" The mongoose coughed up blood in response. Waving his sword over his head, Jethro shouted "Aroth, get over here!"

The desert fox in question helped his lupine partner finish off their wolverine before sprinting over to the leopard and mongoose. Kneeling beside them, Aroth swiftly removed Avek's body armor and felt his chest. Avek yelled in pain. "Just about all of his ribs are broken, sir." The medic said. "I can't tell if any of his vitals are punctured. " The fox was interrupted though by the javelin-sized arrow that brushed his whiskers as it sped past and slammed into the fallen mustlide, pinning him to the earth. "Well now we KNOW he's fucked." The fox said as Jethro dragged him by his armor under the shelter of his shield.

"Get down and get that bow of yores out!"

The leopard needn't have said it, the vulpine was already stringing up his short, composite recurve bow. Gesturing to the vivid blue and green markings on the massive arrow, Aroth growled "It's that filthy, mange-ridden traitor Telos."

The wolf archer (and traitor) Telos, snarled angrily from where he stood upon the battlements of the wolverine's fortress as he watched his shot narrowly miss the leopard captain and his medic, and his chance to kill the southerners vanish with the raise of a shield. The wolf nocked another arrow and drew it to his ear. His aim did not fail him again as his shot took a hare through the eye. His next finished a mace-bearing wildcat, and a third sent a wolf to Vulpuz as well. The archer smirked with satisfaction, now this was more like it!

"Okay, I got the bastard." Aroth murmured "One, two, three, now!" The fox leaped out from behind the shield, drew the arrow to his ear sighted and fired.

Telos only got a fleeting glimpse of a blur at the edge of his vision and a sharp, piercing pain in his belly. He looked down at the short bamboo arrow lodged in his abdomen, an expression of shock stamped upon his light grey face. _"Well Damn."_ Thewolf thought before his knees buckled and he slipped through a murder hole in the battlements and fell to the plains below.

Aroth grinned "Got 'im, sir! Straight to the guts! The bastard didn't even see it coming!" The desert fox looked around and his triumphant grin turned into a wry, slightly annoyed expression at the sight of his commander jogging away toward the next struggling knot of warriors. "Well that jest figgers now don't it." The vulpine medic muttered as he put up his bow and took out his tomahawk and dagger. "Well," he said with forced cheerfulness ", back to earning my paycheck."

The battle continued to rage for the next six hours. Both side continued to suffer heavy casualties and the bodies continued to pile up, the spilled blood turning the churned up frozen earth into freezing mud. But eventually the steady, strong, seemingly endless endurance that characterized the lupine warriors outlasted the insane blood frenzy of the wolverines who, in their exhaustion, were killed in ever increasing numbers. Finally, a massive, middle-aged wolverine dressed richly in purple and scarlet shouted down from the battlements an order that had never been heard from a wolverine and in all likelihood, would never be heard from a wolverine again. " Fall back! Retreat to the citadel!" The soldiers, despite all they had been taught in contradiction to the order, were too tired to disobey and disengaged from their allied opponents. Many, however, did not even make it half-way to the gates of their short, squat, blocky Cliffside fortress before being cut down by the arrows and slingstones of the soldiers (woodlander and vermin alike) of the Greatest Pack, Freelancers, and the Northern Branch of the Long Patrol. The allied soldiers cheered and roared their victory as they loosed their missiles and clashed their weapons against their shields.

"Run ye liddle cowards, run!" an otter standing next to the gore-slicked leopard jeered as he brandished his two-pronged, double-ended fishing spear. "Yeah, you better keep on runnin' ye spineless bit-" The otter suddenly seemed to notice the dark-furred officer standing next to him listening to every word he said with eyebrows raised and an amused expression on his blood-spattered face. The otter quickly regained his composure and coughed to hide his embarrassment and cleared his throat before extending his paw. Captain Jethro Mortspear struggled to hide his chuckling at the otter's suddenly formal behavior as he shook the otter's paw. "Ahem, good work Cap'n, very smooth victory we got here…." The otter said before awkwardly hesitating." First Mate Pike Strongcurrent at yore service, Cap'n Mortspear."

Jethro nodded, "Relax Strongcurrent, no need to be overly formal. And I wouldn't be so quick to call this a 'smooth victory' if I were you. The party ain't over yet." The leopard advised, bending down to rip off a large piece of tough fabric from a slain stoat's tabard and began to more thoroughly clean the gore off his sword.

Looking around at the torn and broken bodies splayed across the battlefield, First Mate Pike Strongcurrent let out a deep breath "Not much of a party though, is it matey." He said solemnly.

An image of Avek's crushed corpse, followed by the images of every other soldier the mercenary captain had lost in the northern lands flashed behind his eyes. "Yeah." Jethro paused for a moment before standing back up, shaking his head to clear it _"That's it, after we finish this we're going south for an easier contract, I refuse to lose this many good creatures for a land I don't give a damn about."_ Jethro brought himself to attention and saluted the otter (who did the same to his superior). "Speaking of such, I must go and attend to my dead. Take care o' yore self, Pike."

"You too, sir."


	2. Council of War

**Thirty Seasons Later: Book One: The War Torn Tundra**

DISCLAIMER: see Chapter One.

AN: Hello everybeast! Sorry Chapter Two took so long, RL was giving me problems and so was writer's block. So here it is, enjoy.

**Chapter Two: Council of War**

"_He who fails to plan, plans to fail."_

"Twelve dead and eight wounded, sir." The Freelancer medic reported.

The dark green-eyed cat's face contorted into an angry grimace, exposing his long thorn-sharp fangs as the commander let out a frustrated snarl. "This makes what Corporal, thirty-three dead since the start of this accursed campaign?" He questioned the female otter in a strained tone.

"Y-Yes, Captain." The she-otter replied nervously. "I swear sir; we're doing all we can, sir."

The ebony-furred leopard looked up sharply. "I'm not mad at you and you didn't do anything wrong. I know you and your medics are doing your best. It isn't their or your fault that in this damned contract alone I've lost almost a third of my force." Jethro said more calmly. "I need to know who's wounded, how badly, and an estimated time of recovery. I also need a list of the fallen, and their bodies ready for burial by sundown, dawn at the latest." He grabbed her shoulder as she turned to return to the casualties. "And Corporal Swiftstream, if you need any more beastpower, all you have to do is ask and I'll give you the entire remaining force if necessary, ok."

"Understood Captain."

Jethro nodded and released the otter's shoulder. "Good." _"She's been on her paws practically the entire campaign, what with the wounded and the dead, the marching and everything else she has to do for this job. If she doesn't get rest soon she'll collapse_." His mind was soon jarred from his issues concerning his exhausted medic; however, by Aroth slapping him on the back as he delivered the casualty list and a message that the commanders of the Alliance of the Greatest Pack wanted him for a council of war. He thanked the fox as he promptly left the infirmary tent and briskly strode through the busy camp (if one can classify a military encampment housing over five thousand fighting beasts a camp), reading the list as he went.

_Killed in action-12_

_Sergeant Avek Stormsand-mongoose; crushed rib cage resulting in multiple punctured vital organs_

_Eravic Sikya-desert fox; functional decapitation_

_Tieren Esun-mongoose; mace to the skull_

_Sciya Mareni-mongoose; dagger through eye to brain_

_Lieutenant Omoc Sigue-mongoose; arrow to the left lung_

_Furov Arna-ratel; torn neck resulting in death by bloodloss_

_Corporal Nikae Sumnate-mongoose; disemboweled_

_Ifin Rayades-desert fox; axe to the heart_

_Vercca Goret-mongoose; sword stab to the heart_

_Farren Micia-desert fox; decapitation_

_Feiral Kilter-mongoose; crushed trachea leading to suffocation_

_Trivian Gairma-desert fox; broken neck_

_Wounded-8_

_Merak Fikai- ratel; broken arm; ETR twelve weeks minimum_

_Kiari Teken-ratel; multiple large gashes; ETR two weeks minimum_

_Vuelven Stonejaw- ratel; multiple large gashes; ETR two weeks minimum_

_Viaje Augila- mongoose; ETR twelve weeks minimum_

_Traque Quieren- desert fox; slashed face and stabbed side; ETR three weeks minimum_

_Marron Kirn- ratel; multiple large gashes; ETR two weeks minimum_

_Isan Fennec- desert fox; multiple large gashes and cut tendons on the back of the left leg; ETR middle of next season minimum_

_Kesug Lespa- mongoose; arrow to the leg; ETR two weeks maximum_

"What's that?" a voice said beside him.

Jethro flinched, his claws unsheathing instinctively before he relaxed. "Casualty report, and Terraff please stop doing that."

"No, it's far too funny to see an assassin jump when somebeast scares him for me to stop." The wolf looked at the list. "Only eight wounded? I know your guys are good, but seriously?" She questioned with a quizzical look.

"Those are only the ones SERIOUSLY wounded, besides most of them ARE ratels. Like their cousins the badgers, most of them get a little stir-crazy on the battlefield."

Terraff nodded in understanding. "So what's your opinion about our current predicament?"

Jethro gave her a weird look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there three opinions about what we need to do to get inside the damn fortress. The first is to try a night infiltration to assassinate the leaders and get the doors open. Plan two is starve them out, and the third is a traditional assault as well as a combination of the first two plans."

"Well I'm certainly not for the traditional assault, it'll get us all killed!"

"Exactly my views. Personally I'm for the 'sit and wait' option, sure we'll be here longer, but less of us will get killed that way."

"I agree, I've lost about one third of my force in this, no offense, accursed contract, and I have no wish to see more good friends of mine get buried. And I don't particularly care how much they want to pay me."

"None taken, I might wholeheartedly support this war, but as you well know I don't agree with some of the methods used. Thankfully, King Meskochad shoots down most of the more reckless officers and their equally ridiculous ideas."

"In the end though all we can do is follow orders, and try our best to get as many of our brothers and sisters home alive. Speaking of War Councils, I'm surprised King Meskochad allowed me in there. Most of my employers would say that mercenaries like me shouldn't have a say in things and then proceed to throw me and the rest of my beasts into suicide missions."

Captain Terraff stopped and grabbed Jethro by the upper arm, turning the leopard to face her. "Of course he did, King Meskochad is an honest, and straightforward wolf who was elected by us pack leaders because of these traits. If he had disrespected you like that, he would have broken the commitment between a commander and his subordinates. Just because you are not a permanent member of the Greatest Pack, doesn't mean you don't have the rights of one while under our employ."

"Your society's laws grant me that right? I thought he was just being considerate."

The slim white wolf let go of the leopard's arm and shrugged. "He was, but his personal values weren't the only reason for his behavior."

"Oh." The leopard and the wolf continued walking to the command tent. "Is that what this entire meeting is about, the battle plans?"

"Basically."

"Nice of ye to bring me up to speed."

"Anytime."

The two captains entered the massive tent used as a make-shift command center and looked around. "You see any of them?" Terraff asked Jethro, who was craning his head to peer over the crowd of officers in the tent.

"Unfortunately not, I don't think Rakio or Sekn, have arrived yet." The dark-furred cat replied with a frown.

"Then apparently your eyes aren't nearly as good as they're supposed to be." Said a voice just behind him.

Jethro flinched and turned on the tan and white-speckled wolf who had made the remark. "Sekn Wintersand, would you quit scaring the Hell out of me! It's not funny!"

Sekn chuckled as he led Terraff and Jethro to a corner of the massive tent. "Oh it is very funny, Captain I'm-so-damn-stealthy-it's-unreal."

"It's true." Jethro retorted crossly.

"Then why do I keep managing to sneak up on you?"

"One, every time you scare the hell out of me, I'm TRYING to be found, and two, you're an assassin too."

"Anything that helps you sleep, Mortspear."

Jethro rolled his eyes as he finished greeting the other seven captains in their corner and opened his jaws for a scathing retort when a powerful black wolf dressed in plate steel armor and dark blue clothes with an enormous double-edged battle-axe strapped to his back rang a small tin bell loudly to get everybeast's attention. "I'll deal with you later, Sekn." Jethro murmured before turning his attention to the lupine king.

King Meskochad cast an annoyed look at the bell before speaking. "I really do hate using that bell, "the wolf grinned,"but maybe we can replace it with a gavel made from the bones of a wolverine when we're done here, eh?" A couple of the officers chuckled at the joke. Meskochad leaned against the desk and began to call roll. "Scovi Yerlica," A tall weasel armed with a short sword and a hatchet raised his paw. "Rakio Stormfur, " A female wolf with dark grey fur standing next to Jethro raised her paw in answer. "Sekn Wintersand," the tan wolf raised his paw.

Meskochad continued to call roll until all of the officers were accounted for, and put the roll call scroll to the side. "For the past eight months we have fought our most hated enemy, who have killed our packmates by the score in their hundreds of raids on our borders. Now we are finally at the last step of our campaign that will finally rid us of our enemy, avenge our dead packmates, and liberate the hundreds of creatures slaving away at the whips of the wolverines. And yet, the toughest nut to be cracked is still before us." Meskochad crossed his arms. "Now all of us, whether we belong to the Greatest Pack, Long Patrol, Wildcat Clansbeast, or even Freelancer mercenary, must figure out a way over, around, or through those walls so we can be done with this menace once and for all."

"And we can stop working with vermin, wot." A hare at the edge of the group muttered, "Not to mention we can stop supporting a tyrant."

A tension seemed to spring out of nowhere to permeate the room as various officers strove to control themselves from striking the offending beast down, including Terraff. Jethro put his paw on his friend's shoulder. "Don't do anything rash, King Meskochad has dealt with this before and he'll do it again now." The leopard murmured to his friends.

"I know, it still pisses me off to hear that said about him. Anybeast under our rule came into our Pack out of personal choice and they can leave anytime they want to." Sekn replied in a strained tone.

Jethro put his paw back by his side as King Meskochad replied. "Brigadier, for the last time, I am not a tyrant, and I would appreciate it if you stopped calling my packmates vermin."

"Sure you are," the hare replied,"you're a king with a kingdom that has an upper and lower class, and you force your subjects to fight in your wars. Therefore, you are a tyrant, wot."

"Then he's a tyrant I'd be proud to die for." an otter near the door growled, his paw clenched around the handle of the long rapier hanging by his side. "King Meskochad and the wolves never forced their rule on us, we voted and accepted it with open paws and under him we have never been more successful or safe. Now tell me he's a tyrant one more time."

Meskochad stepped in before the hare could say a word. "General Stormrudder, I appreciate and honor your gratitude and loyalty, but please calm yourself and stand down. We have business far more important than defending the Greatest Pack's reputation from false accusations to discuss."

"Very well, sir." The otter said shortly, although he continued to glare balefully at the brigadier.

"Now, several of you have approached me with suggestions of how to crack this final problem, and I'd like to have the masterminds get up here and fully explain their ideas to the rest of us, and we'll all figure out a solution." Meskochad continued. Looking around the tent for a moment, the wolf took a sip from his canteen before finishing. "First, I'd like for General Safway of the Long Patrol, and General Erature of the Evergreen Pack to take the floor and present their plan to us." Meskochad stepped to the side of the tent beside General Stormrudder, and let an old, greying hare dressed in a red uniform festooned with medals and a falchion hanging by his side take the center of attention, accompanied by a brown-furred wolf dressed in green, on his belt hung a large sledgehammer.

General Safway spoke first. "Our plan is primarily a traditional assault to distract the enemy as we infiltrate an assassin team inside the walls, wot." He picked up a map of the enemy castle and pointed at several positions along the wall, "At these points here, here, here, here, and here, we will roll up siege towers filled with fighting beasts after a two day and night bombardment."

"During which we sneak in a team of assassins and specialists by having them rappel down the mountain and into the fortress on the first night of the bombardment." General Erature added.

Safway nodded,"Exactly. They will then wait in hiding for two days and nights while we continue the bombardment. On the third day at midnight, during our main attack they will split into two groups."

"One will head to the front gates and open them for the rest of us. The second will infiltrate the palace and attempt to assassinate everybeast inside." Erature finished.

"You know, when I said "traditional assault" I didn't think that siege engines would be used this prominently." Terraff whispered.

"Yeah, this actually doesn't sound that bad." Jethro agreed.

Sekn shrugged, "I'd vote for it. It's well rounded, well thought out, and only has one major flaw."

"How in the 'Gates is an entire assassin team going to remain concealed in that damn place for three days without getting caught?" Rakio voiced their concern.

"Damn right." Sekn said, crossing his arms.

"Does anybeast have a question, wot?"

Jethro raised his paw, "Yeah, I do."

Erature pointed at him to let him know he had the wolf's attention. "Yes?"

"This plan is obviously well thought out, but there's one major problem. How in Hellgates are we-" Jethro gestured at himself and Sekn "- going to hide in that place for three days? We can get in no problem, it's staying hidden that's going to be the issue."

Safway nodded, "Ah yes. Chieftain Dorian, would you please answer this?"

A grey-streaked wildcat with a large war-spear and a shield strapped to his back nodded and looked over. "When the wildcat Clans split, I made sure to get some of my cats on their side. They're already in position inside the city and will hide you during those three days. I'll give you two the address and password later."

"Thanks, Dorian." Jethro said, giving the wildcat a paw-thumbs up. "Well that explains where that info came from." The leopard murmured.

"I'm just glad we had it, we never would've taken Fort Snowfrost without it." Terraff replied.

"Any more questions, wot?" Safway asked. A smattering of "No's was heard around the tent.

"Looks like we're done here then." The wolf said to the hare.

"Indeed, wot." Safway replied as they went to join their compatriots .

Meskochad returned to the front. "Generals Erature and Safway, thank you for sharing. Now I would like for Captain Scovi to share his plan."

"Don't mind me; I'm backing General Erature now that I've heard his plan." The weasel responded dismissing the call with a wave of his paw.

Meskochad blinked in suprise, "Um, okay, General James, your turn then."

"Same here, sir." A mouse with a gladius strapped to his back replied.

"Well, in that case you're all dismissed. We'll meet again three days from now to finalize the details." Meskochad finished.

As everybeast began to leave, Jethro turned to the others, "We still burying our dead together?"

Over the course of the war, the captains in their little group had grown rather close, and so had their respective companies. After the first few battles they had ended up burying their dead together in one mass grave, and had done so ever since. It was not only simpler that way, but it allowed troops in any of the companies to mourn most if not all of their companions at once without having to wait for an official casualties list to be circulated.

"Yeah, we may as well. There's a spot near my pack's campsite that's big enough. Meet there in two hours?" Terraff said as they ducked out of the command tent.

"I'll be there." The leopard returned as he left to walk back to his campsite.


	3. Funerals

**Thirty Seasons Later: Book One: The War Torn Tundra**

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

**Chapter Three: Funerals**

"_Victory is sweet, but one must remember the sacrifice that bought it."_

Jethro hurried back to the infirmary tent installed in his campsite. The leopard was always diligent to spend some time with his wounded warriors directly after a battle, and he'd been interrupted by the meeting.

Jethro entered the tent and immediately approached Corporal Swiftstream. "How are they doing?" he asked.

"They're all stable. Most of them are sleeping." she replied.

"Good, they deserve some sleep. Are the dead ready for burial?"

"Yes, sir."

"In that case, go to your tent, and get some sleep." She opened her jaws to protest, but Jethro cut her off with a wave of his paw. "No arguments, it's an order. You've been on your paws constantly for the past three days. Go to your tent, and get some sleep before you collapse. The wounded can't afford to have someone workin' on them who's barely awake. I'll have somebeast wake you up before the funeral." The leopard continued," You've done a great job, but now it's time for _you_ to recuperate."

"...Fine, come get me if anything happens." she grumpily responded as she walked out the door.

"Of course," Jethro replied as he turned to walk out of the waiting area and into the infirmary proper. "Not." he muttered. Looking around, he spotted a lone creature sitting up in his cot, writing in a book. Jethro briskly strode over to the creature. "Do you mind if I sit down, Private Fennec?"

The fox nodded, "Um, go ahead, sir." Isan Fennec quickly capped his ink bottle and placed it along with his book and quill to the side, wincing as he did so. "Was there anything you wanted to talk about, sir?" the twenty-season-old desert fox asked.

"Relax Private. I do have something to discuss with you, but more on that later. How do you feel?"

Isan absentmindedly scratched a bit at a large bandage across his chest. "Well, my legs hurt, but I'm more restless than anything else."

"You're not thinking of getting up are you? I heard what happened to your legs."

"Nah, Aroth told me that if I tried, he would tie me to the bed. Apparently, I won't be fully healed until the middle of next season. I'll be fine, though. I've suffered worse. It'll be the boredom that'll drive me crazy." The fox joked.

"I'm guessing that's what the book is for?" Jethro asked, pointing at the lizard-skin bound volume.

Private Fennec looked over at the book. "Yeah, writing keeps the boredom at bay. I'm hoping to get it published when we get back home."

"What's in it? If you don't mind me asking." The leopard said curiously.

The fox shrugged, "The stuff that's happened up here, short stories that just pop into my head, occasionally I'll write poetry."

"You're going to publish all of that in one book?"

Isan laughed then groaned,"Ow, my chest. Note to self, it hurts to laugh. No sir, I'll put the stories and poems in one book. I don't know if I'll publish what happened here though, too painful."

Jethro nodded. "The time you got hurt worse than this, was that the Battle of Kehmet?"

"Yeah, a river dragon caught me across the chest with its tail and broke every single one of my ribs. The medics had to go in and individually wire together each of my ribs. I was in the infirmary for two seasons and every time I breathed deeply I felt like somebeast was stabbing my chest with twenty red-hot daggers at once. I never would've gotten off that river bank if Avek hadn't killed the dragon with a throwing knife and dragged me out of there, though."

Jethro shifted uncomfortably. "Did you hear about Avek?"

"No. What happened to him? He isn't hurt is he?"

"He's dead."

Isan's eyes widened in horror, his ears drooped and his shoulders slumped. "Oh no, he was one of the ones with family back home, too. His sister was getting married when we left."

Jethro in looked up in shock. "You're messing with me. He told me that nothing was going on. If I had known, I never would've brought him along. Oh Vulpuz, no."

"He was using the opportunity to get enough cash together to give his sister a really good wedding present when we got back."

"And now he'll never get to give it to her." Jethro buried his face in his paws.

"We could try to get a messenger bird to take his pay to her." Isan suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds like the best option." Jethro crossed his arms, Jethro took a deep breath, he would have the opportunity to grieve for the mongoose later at the funeral. "About what I need to discuss with you, Avek was the ranking beast in your squad, and now he's dead. How would you feel about taking his place after you recover?" The leopard asked.

Isan shook his head, ears still drooped. "No one could ever replace Avek. He was the best squad leader I could have ever asked for, but yeah, I'll lead the squad once I recover." The desert fox sighed and asked. "Sir, how am I going to get to the funeral?"

"I'll see about getting a stretcher for you." The leopard said, getting up to leave.

"Sir, before you leave, would you mind getting me another one of those wolverine-pelt blankets from the box over there? It's damn cold here."

"Of course, Sergeant."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Jethro sat in his tent, taking a much needed bath to wash off the dried blood and mud caked into his fur. _"I needed this so badly. I think this might be the first time in two weeks that I've felt clean." _Jethro leaned back in the barrel he was using as a washtub and grabbed a piece of his armor off of the ground and began to wipe the dirt and blood off of the metal and woven river dragon leather padding and straps. Feeling that water was getting cold (a death sentence in the Lands of Ice and Snow), the leopard climbed out and began to dry himself off with a cloth blanket (he'd learned that cloth blankets didn't do much to keep him warm at night, using blankets made of the pelts of dead foes as the wolves did was one of the only truly effective ways to stay warm and so most of his cloth blankets had been relegated to use as towels or armor padding, because in freezing temperatures armor was known to stick to skin even under the fur.).

Jethro shivered as he quickly dressed himself. First, his thick, black, canvas cargo pants held up by a broad, thick, river dragon skin belt, followed by a thick, long-sleeved, green shirt. He covered that with a thick, black, sleeveless tunic. Last, he pulled on the black, hooded, swallow-tailed coat lined with wolverine fur that he had taken to wearing when he began working in the Lands of Ice and Snow. The leopard strapped his sword to his side and his two long daggers to the back of his belt. He then slid his newly cleaned throwing knives into the sheathes sewn into the inside of his coat. He'd clean the last few pieces of his armor later, after the funeral.  
He spent the rest of the time he had before the funeral helping to move the dead to the burial site, procuring stretchers for his wounded so they would be able to attend despite their injuries and informing the rest of his dwindling force of the event.

* * *

"I see you decided to get a head start." Terraff commented as she walked up behind him and sat down beside the leopard, her light tone veiling the sorrow of the occasion that showed clearly on their faces, both feline and canine.

He ignored her statement, instead replying, "I don't care how many battles I go into, I'm never going to get used to burying this many friends."

She nodded. "And you should never want to. War and its consequences should not be something somebeast simply 'gets used to.' It's tragic, and messed up, and good creatures shouldn't have to bury each other because of evil creatures."

"I agree, and it hurts even more when you know that you could've stopped somebeast from dying if you only had known one little piece of information."

"What do you mean?" The white wolf asked, confused.

"You remember Avek Stormsand? Well, turns out he had a sister. He came on this trip to try to get enough cash together to get her a really good wedding present 'cause she was getting married a month after we were leaving. If I had known," the leopard said, voice shaking slightly, " I never would've let him come, and he'd still be alive right now." Jethro sniffed. "And that's just the beginning! Apparently, Sicya Mareni had just lost his wife to snakebite! Why didn't I know these things?! Am I such a bad commander that nobeast thinks that I care?! If I had known my beasts better, I wouldn't have let them come, and they wouldn't have died halfway around the world in a frozen wasteland for money!" The mercenary captain wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm sorry for ranting at you, Terraff. You shouldn't have to hear me like this."

Terraff put her arm around his shoulders. "Don't be. Even when we were just barely friends, you were one of those who were there for me when that bastard Telos betrayed me and killed my husband as he fled to the wolverines. And after every battle, we've all comforted each other as we buried our packmates. I'm glad to be here to return the favor."

Jethro nodded. "Thank you, Terraff." The leopard sighed. "By the way, we got the traitor."

Terraff gazed at Jethro in amazement, tears of joy forming in her brown eyes. "How?"

Jethro explained how he and Aroth had gotten pinned down by Telos and how Aroth had shot the traitorous wolf off the walls.

She wiped her eyes. "That wolf took nearly everybeast from me, the love of my life, my two brothers, and five others in my pack. He targeted us especially, to hear that he's dead is like a dream come true."

"I know. The bastard killed a lot of my friends as well. I'm glad to be able to bring you the good news. After the funeral, I'll make sure you get to thank Aroth." Jethro saw Sekn and Rakio out of the corner of his eye. "The others are here, let's go greet them." The leopard stood up, pulling his friend up with him.

The wolf and the leopard walked over to the two captains. "Hey Rakio, Sekn." Jethro greeted as he shook their paws. Terraff did the same.

The four captains, through an odd web of acquaintanceship, had grown close over the course of the war. Rakio and Terraff had already known each other beforehand, as their fiefdoms bordered each other. Terraff was the leader of the pack that had rescued Jethro and co. from the snow. Jethro and Sekn had come to know each other early on, as they were two of the very few assassin captains in the entire outfit, and so were forced to work together quite often.

"Well, I suppose we should get digging, graves don't dig themselves." Sekn said.

The captains and their companies spent the next hour digging a large rectangular pit, fifteen tail-lengths wide, twenty tail-lengths long, and two tail-lengths deep, to put to rest the fifty-six creatures from their respective companies that were killed during the battle. As Jethro and the surviving members of his force laid their brothers- and sisters-at-arms in the frozen earth, they placed a small flask of pure water in the paws of each of the corpses.

"Why do you do that?" Rakio asked curiously.

"Where we come from, water is a resource as valuable as life. This water will last their spirit through the journey to the afterlife. The journey will test their souls so that when they stand before Vulpuz, He can make an accurate judgment of their character. His judgment will determine whether they go to Paradise or Hell." The leopard folded the paws of the mongoose that had saved his life around the small clay bottle as he spoke. "Why do you place flint and steel in the paws of your dead?"

"Same reason essentially. Fire is vital for life here. The presence of it in the paws of the dead will give them the light and warmth needed to make it through the Land of Eternal Winter, and to keep the Frost monsters away from their souls." Rakio replied.

"What happens if these 'Frost monsters' catch you?" Jethro asked as they went to retrieve more bodies.

"Then your soul will be destroyed, and denied even a chance of proper judgment."

* * *

After they had all buried their dead, the four captains had the names of the slain carved out on several large boards, and the boards staked down into the earth that covered the mass grave. "I cannot wait until the end of all this." Sekn said soberly. "I don't think I have too many of these funerals left in me. I'm tired of seeing dead pack laid out in front of me. It's sickening."

Jethro nodded. "That's what I said to Terraff." The leopard agreed.

"Speaking of Terraff, I heard one of your foxes got the son of a bitch who's been targeting her pack. Telos, wasn't he?"

"Yep, Telos is dead. Aroth killed him."

"How the fuck did he kill him? That filthy traitor's been staying on the walls of whatever fortress he's been in, every battle."

"Aroth's an archer too, you know." The leopard answered matter-a-factly.

"Oh yeah, I remember that now. Sorry."

"No problem, mate."

The leopard stood up from where they had been sitting. "I'll see ya later, Sekn. I've got to help Terraff find Aroth so she can thank him in person."

The sand-colored wolf nodded. "Hey Jethro." he added as an afterthought. "I've got a couple of bottles of blackberry brandy left from the last castle we looted. The others are coming tonight to open them with me, you coming?"

"I'm coming. I might be a little late, I need to visit my wounded again Most of them were still asleep when I visited them last."

"Same with the rest of us. I'd think less of you if you didn't."

"And next time, drinks are on me."

"Damn right, Mortspear"

Jethro found Terraff staring at one of the makeshift tombstones. The she-wolf reached up and touched a name lightly with a finger. "Lofkin Amdro." She read. " The last beast Telos ever killed." She stated.

"And now, he's avenged. Just like everybeast else that traitor betrayed. Your husband, your brothers, they're all at peace now."

She smiled at the thought. "Not yet. I have to thank Aroth first."

"Then let's go and find him." The leopard returned with a small grin.

They found the archer fox talking to Isan slightly closer to the tents than the grave. Terraff immediately addressed the medic when they walked up. "Aroth, you were the one who killed Telos, right?"

The desert fox stood, confused. Was the lupine officer angry with him? Aroth knew full well the history behind Telos and of all he had done to the female wolf since the traitor had fled to the enemy, killing her husband on the way. Was it possible that she had wanted to kill Telos herself and was angry at him for robbing her of the chance to avenge her loved ones herself? "Yes, I did. Did you want to do that yourself, ma'am?"

Looking the fox in the eyes, she replied. "Yes, I did." the wolf unexpectedly placed her paws on his shoulders and pulled him in, hugging him tightly and placing a light kiss on the fox's cheek. She stepped back, her paws still on Aroth's shoulders. "But I am still ecstatic at how everything turned out anyway. Knowing that Telos is dead is like a dream come true to me, and I can't possibly thank you enough for killing him." The wolf let go of Aroth's shoulders and let her arms fall back to hang by her sides.

Aroth bashfully scratched at his ear; he hadn't expected this at all. "Um...you're welcome. It was a pleasure. He killed a lot of my friends as well."

Terraff nodded with a smile, and turned back to the leopard. "I'll see you at Sekn's tent later, Jethro."

"See you, Terraff." Jethro returned. The leopard turned back to look at the mass grave. _"That's one family avenged."_ He thought. Jethro turned back to help Aroth move Isan back to the infirmary tent. Seeing the enemy fortress that loomed over the encampment, he couldn't help but think, _"Now let's avenge the_ rest."

((AN: well, That's the longest I've ever stayed focused on a single story. I hope you guys liked it. Don't forget to read and review.))


	4. Calm Before The Storm

**Thirty Seasons Later: Book One: The War Torn Tundra**

AN: Hey everybeast, I'd like to apologize for this taking so long. I had minor writer's block at several different points as I wrote the story. I would also like to extend special thanks to Saraa Luna and FerretWarlord, who have followed this story from the beginning. This chapter was annoying to write, because it was both vital that the events of the Urthblood Saga and everything between then and the present day were explained, and yet I couldn't manage to get it down well, I kept tripping up. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: See chapter one

**Chapter Four: Calm Before The Storm**

**Part One: Speaking of the Past**

"_History always has a lesson you can learn."_

After cleaning the rest of his gear and visiting the rest of his wounded (Isan had still been teasing Aroth about the incident with Terraff, as Aroth had yet to get over the confusion of the unexpected situation), Jethro grabbed his mug and made his way over to Sekn's tent. The assassin wolf had built a fire in front of the makeshift dwelling and was warming up the alcohol by placing the bottles close to the edge of the life-giving flames. The black leopard hailed him, waving a paw in the air. "Need any help?" he asked.

Sekn looked up at the leopard's question. "Nah, we're good. You're here surprisingly early." Wintersand answered, sitting down on a log that he had not yet used for firewood.

The feline nodded. "Yeah, as it turned out, I didn't end up spending a whole lot of time with my wounded. Most of them just wanted to sleep while they could and we didn't end up talking much."

"Same here. I'm glad that they were able to. Sleep is the best healer after all." The wolf stirred the embers of the fire with a stick. "So how badly did your company fare?"

Jethro sat down on another log. "Eight injured, a couple of them will be out for a season or two. Including one of my replacement officers."

"Who was it?" Wintersand asked curiously.

"Isan Fennec." Mortspear replied as he stretched out his legs, letting the warmth from the flickering flames soak through his boots and leggings.

Sekn nodded. "Good, he deserves it."

"That he does."

"Who's he replacing?"

"Avek Stormsand."

Sekn winced. "Ouch, that fox has got some big prints to fill. Hell, even in the short time I knew him; I could tell that he was a kind of officer-material that you just don't see every day."

"That's essentially what Isan said, and I fully agree with the sentiment."

"What sentiment?" Rakio asked as she walked up and sat down beside Sekn.

"That the late Avek Stormsand was a fucking phenomenal sergeant." Sekn answered as he passed her a bottle of brandy.

"Ah, how did he die?" She asked curiously, taking a sip.

"Saving my sorry ass." The leopard answered his tone a little more bitter with self-incrimination.

"Who was saving your ass?" Terraff questioned as she sat down beside him.

"Avek." Jethro responded growing a little annoyed at having to repeat himself so many times.

"He was the one with the sister who was getting married, right." The white wolf inquired, taking the proffered bottle from Sekn.

"Yep."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I feel like I'm coming into the middle of the conversation here. A little info please?" Sekn commented, gesturing with the bottle.

"Exactly." Rakio supported.

Jethro exhaled heavily. "Okay, Avek had a sister who was getting married. He came on this trip to get enough cash together to get his sister a really good wedding present. He was killed today saving my worthless tail. Got it?" The leopard explained before taking a drink from the bottle, his tone slightly harsh. The leopard took a breath to calm down, they didn't deserve for him to take out his frustration on them, "Sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, you know." Sekn commented gently after a moment.

"The hell it wasn't. If I had known, and as a commander it was certainly my responsibility to have known that, I would never have let him get on my ship. He would still be alive."

"But you didn't know, and that's the point. If he was deliberately hiding this from you, then you aren't to blame. So stop beating yourself up over it." Rakio argued.

"And don't blame yourself for Sicya Mareni's death either; from the sound of it he was deliberately chasing death." Terraff added.

"What was his story?"Sekn asked.

"His wife died of snakebite. Forest cobra, right on her collarbone, she died in minutes." Jethro answered.

"Yeah, he was suicidal. I don't really blame him either." Sekn confirmed as he took a sip of the warm alcohol.

"So you'd do the same thing if your wife died?" Jethro asked quizzically.

"If Reiko died, I think I would seriously consider it." Sekn answered genuinely. The wolf paused to take another drink. "I don't think I've asked you, what was your ride over like? How much trouble did TES give you?" The wolf said, obviously trying to change the subject.

"TES?" Jethro inquired, confused.

"Terramort Empire of Searats." Terraff clarified.

"Formed by Tratton after the Treaty of Salamandastron was signed. They've owned all oceans for over three hundred seasons. And now that Lord Urthblood's dead, they've become a little more arrogant in trying to expand their meager grasp of the continental shorelines. It's only a matter of time before Lord Redstripe gets tired of their idiocy and starts another war with them." Rakio explained.

"Oh, they actually didn't bother us too much. One of their dreadnoughts stopped us, took ten percent of our cash and left. But who's Lord Urthblood and Lord Redstripe? I've never heard of them." The leopard answered.

"Well, Lord Redstripe is Lord Urthblood's successor to the rule of Salamandastron, but Lord Urthblood, that's whole 'nother story right there. That badger was the most controversial figure to have ever lived. "Rakio explained pensively before taking a drink from her bottle.

"Well, it's not like we don't have the time to hear it." Jethro urged.

Rakio nodded. "Very true. Lord Urthblood came to power about three hundred seasons ago after foretelling a prophecy telling of catastrophic destruction to come. In response to his prophecy, he went north to see what he could do to weather the coming storms ." Rakio took a breath and Sekn took over.

"What he ended up doing was waging a twenty-season long war to tame the Northlands and to get us 'vermin' under his control and under his military command."

"Which the so-called 'vermin' down there needed anyway." Terraff added.

"That they did, they were assholes by necessity back then. Anyway, after slapping some sense into the creatures down there and gettin' them organized into a proper country of-sorts, he headed south to forge an alliance with Redwall and see what was up with his brother." Sekn continued.

Rakio took it upon herself to pick up the story from there. "You see, for the past twenty seasons, Urthblood had been getting signs that suggested that all was not well in his brother Urthfist's head. Long story short, Urthblood and Urthfist fought on the slopes of Salamandastron over Lordship of the mountain. A couple hundred beasts died and Urthblood slew Urthfist. The remainder of the Long Patrol went to Redwall to live out the rest of their days. A couple of seasons later, Urthblood instigated a battle with Searat King Tratton, and then destroyed six of his dreadnoughts, which was then a large part of Tratton's naval power. At this point, Urthblood alienated his otter platoons by using poison gas, once on a shrew insurrection group, a second time on the last Flitchaye tribe. He spent the rest of life rounding up woodland rats and exchanging them for searat slaves as well as creating more and more advanced weaponry, specifically with stormpowder."

"After Urthblood's death thirty seasons ago, his successor Lord Redstripe restored relations with the broadstream otters and the Long Patrols defeated by Lord Urthblood in the battle against his brother. He also made an alliance with Green Isle, the center of otterdom on earth, and the only island to permanently resist TES." Sekn continued.

"Word is, Redstripe is planning on ditching the treaty and finishing what Urthblood started." Terraff finished.

"Has TES ever messed with you guys before?" Jethro inquired, taking a drink.

The other three captains looked at each other and smirked. "Once, they didn't have a fun time of it." Rakio chuckled darkly.

"Shortly after the treaty with Urthblood was signed, Tratton was in desperate need of wood to build more of his dreadnoughts. In two engagements, Urthblood had destroyed six of his dreadnoughts: the _Thunderchild_, _Whiteclaw_, _Whaleslayer_, _Scorpiontail_, _Stormbringer_, and the _Sharktail_. Now, at the time, this was a large portion of Tratton's naval power. He badly needed to replace his warships, and for that, he needed somewhere he could harvest a large portion of wood, so he sent four Galleons full of searats and each ship with a catapult with stormpowder. They invaded, and we let them into the forest. For three days we let them penetrate the motherland. On the fourth day, the Wintersand family and the Icerock family, a total of one hundred wolves, and all of our general infantry met them in battle on the plains of Icerock. We surrounded them. The engagement lasted only twenty minutes. We captured all of their stormpowder, their catapults, their four ships and forty prisoners. We let fifteen of them go back to Terramort to tell Tratton what happened. We executed the rest." Sekn recounted proudly.

"It wasn't a battle. It wasn't even a backyard brawl. It was a massacre, a beatdown, plain and simple." Terraff commented.

"What kind of casualties did you sustain?" Jethro asked in awe.

"Three dead, ten with minor injuries. TES hasn't messed with us since." Rakio answered, with satisfaction.

"Can't imagine why." The leopard stated, his tone laced with dry sarcasm. "Has anybeast else been able to resist TES?"

"Well, I assume you mean any country other than the continental mainlands. To answer your question, it's possible, but I doubt it. TES has access to advanced weaponry that no beast but Lord Redstripe could compare with."

**Part Two: Plans**

"_He who fails to plan, plans to fail."_

The next couple of days both sped and crawled by with an alarming mix of mind-numbing boredom and shocking speed. And so before he could really count the days, Jethro was back in the command tent along with the other officers to finalize the details of the siege plans.

"For the assassin/ special forces team, we have chosen a four platoon team." King Meskochad began. "The captains involved are Sekn Wintersand, Rakio Stormfur, Terraff Whitefur, and Jethro Mortspear. On the second night of the bombardment they will leave the camp and travel three miles west before approaching the mountain range. Once they get there, they will climb into the mountains and approach the fortress from the west. When they are above the castle, they will rappel down onto the battlements, and make their way to 43 Bloodaxe Street where the wildcats Jaun and Calvin will shelter your platoons for the next two days. At that time, you will separate into two groups, Jethro and Sekn will make their way to the palace and attempt to kill anybeast inside, while Rakio and Terraff fight their way to the front to open the gates and help us to open the gates and take the battlements. Juan and Calvin have messenger birds; do not hesitate to contact us if you run into problems." Meskochad explained, tracing their path on the map with his paw. "Any questions?"

Rakio, Terraff, and Sekn shook their heads. Jethro spoke up. "Yeah, as the lot of you know, I have ratels in my platoon. These creatures are not suited for stealth missions, and I'd like to place them under your direct command, King Meskochad."

The wolf inclined his head. "Very well, after this meeting I will accompany you to your encampment so that the order may be relayed in their sight. Is this suitable for you?" The king responded.

"Yes, sir." The leopard bowed slightly.

00000

After the meeting ended, Jethro waited around while Meskochad gathered his papers and other necessary items and packed them into the large trunk under the command table. "It is unbelievable how much paperwork it takes to mobilize an army." The lupine monarch stated.

"My father is a lord; I think I have an idea." Jethro returned with a half-grin.

Meskochad nodded. "From what you have told me of your lands, I suppose that you must go to war a lot then?"

"Keeping the river dragons, monitors, and hyena tribes at bay is a ceaseless task, sir."

Meskochad padded over to the leopard. "Well here, you face wolverines. Now let's go inform your ratels of this change in command."

"Yes, sir."

00000

The wolf and the leopard walked a ways before Meskochad spoke again. "Jethro, during your time in my service, you and your platoon have performed admirably. Would you consider staying and becoming a permanent member of the Greatest Pack? I would even be willing to give you your own small fortress and fiefdom; you would be adopted into the Greyrock Pack."

Jethro paused to consider his words. "Sir, your offer is very tempting and if it affected only me, I would not hesitate to accept. However, I have lost a third of my creatures in this contract, and if your chief enemies are the wolverines, then I cannot place my beasts in such a position when what they are defending isn't their true home. Also, I will not pretend that my beasts like being here. From talking to my soldiers on this very matter, I can say that they do think that this is an honorable cause, but that they look forward to the day that we leave for warmer climates. I apologize, sir, but I will have to decline your very generous offer on behalf of my warriors."

Meskochad was silent for a while. "I will not deny that I am disappointed in your decision, but I respect and honor your reasons for it. A good commander always keeps in mind that he or she is there to lead his warriors by serving them as best he can, not because it benefits him."

When the two warriors reached Jethro's part of the encampment, the leopard called all of his ratels in fighting condition to meet him at the center of the camp. After explaining the battle plans, he told them of the situation he had arranged for them. "So because none of you are really suited for stealth missions, I have asked King Meskochad to take temporary command of you all. Sir, is there anything you wish to say to them?"

The wolf nodded. "Yes. On the night of the assault, I will come here to get you. There will be no need to search for me. Until then, assist the siege engine crews." Meskochad nodded to Jethro and his warriors and left.

AN: Please Read and Review. By the way a virtual cookie to whomever gets the joke with Isan's name.


	5. The Storms Move In

**Thirty Seasons Later: Book One: The War Torn Tundra**

**AN:** Hello everyone! I apologize for taking so long to post this. I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter Five: The Storms Move in**

"_I have become death, the destroyer of worlds"- Oppenheimer _

Three days later, Jethro found himself quietly padding into Aroth's tent late in the evening. The leopard had sent all of his warriors back to bed early that day telling them to "Go the fuck back to sleep, and don't come out of your tent for anything except food until two hours before sunset."

Mortspear approached his unofficial second-in-command and cubhood friend, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Brother, it's time to get up and get ready."

The fox rolled over muttering, "Five more minutes."

Jethro shook his head. "No can do, mate. I waited to wake you up last already."

At this statement the archer medic shot up into a sitting position. "I don't know whether to be grateful or pissed. On the one paw, I got extra sleep. On the other, I'm late, and you know how much I hate being late."

Jethro grinned and walked out. "You're not late; you have thirty minutes to be on the parade ground." He said over his shoulder.

Aroth rolled his eyes as Jethro exited the tent, and he got out of his cot, shaking his head.

…...

Forty-five minutes later, the four captains involved in the assassination mission had their platoons lined up at the Eastern side of the encampment to receive their final briefing. "We took the liberty of making a couple of maps for you and your team leaders using that copy maker thing that Areva invented twenty seasons ago. Password to get into Calvin and Jaun's house is 'Verdauga'." Dorian informed the four officers as he passed out the maps.

"Copy maker?" Jethro said as he took his copies with some confusion.

"Machine used to create a lot of copies of something on paper." Sekn answered, stuffing his maps in his pack.

"Oh, okay then." The leopard said, his confusion only slightly resolved. Following the wolf's example, he stuffed his maps into an inside pocket on his coat before buttoning it closed.

"Anything else?" Rakio inquired.

Meskochad shook his head, "Nope. Good luck to all of you, may Vulpuz the Victorious bless you and hide you."

"Let's certainly hope so, considering the size of the force we're bringing in." Terraff agreed wryly as they set off east, parallel to the mountain range to their left.

An hour later, the force reached the predetermined three mile mark, and had sat down to wait, as per instruction, until the bombardment had begun to turn back toward the mountain range to their left. Once they reached the natural monoliths, they could begin approaching the fortress.

As they watched the fortress in the dark, Rakio spoke up, "It's oddly peaceful isn't it."

"Not for long." Sekn returned as an object on fire streaked through the night sky. "Speak of the devil."

The flaming object disappeared in the city for a moment before exploding with a thunderous roar. "And he shall appear." Jethro finished as hundreds of the stormpowder kegs were seen flying through the air.

"It's the beginning of the end my friends." Terraff said as the bombs exploded within the fortress with a deafening cacophony of noise. "Let's hope we all make it through this last one alive."

"Quite." Aroth said as he came up from behind and sat down beside the wolf. "Jethro, now that the bombardment is fully underway, I assume you would like for me to tell Lieutenants Safara and Kerakai to rouse the troops."

Jethro turned to the other captains. "He's got a point. We gonna get moving, or do you want to wait a little more?"

Sekn took a deep breath and exhaled. "Yeah, we need to get into the mountains before ten if we're going to have enough time to be in position above the city by three in the morning." The wolf looked up at the moon, judging its progress across the sky. "It's about eight right now, so we're gonna get there earlier than planned, and we even took it casual getting here, too"

Rakio nodded. "Good, I'd like a little buffer zone between estimated arrival time, and how we're doing. Aroth, please alert my Beta for me and inform him to rouse my lieutenants and the troops, would you?"

"Same here, please." Sekn added.

"Me too, Aroth." Terraff confirmed with a flashed smile.

"Of course." Aroth said before leaving.

After the fox left, Jethro stood up, pausing to pull Terraff up as well. "For Aroth's sake, I am so glad Isan isn't here."

"Why?" Sekn asked puzzled, as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"Because thanks to Terraff smiling at him, Isan would have had yet another excuse to tease him."

"For _smiling_ at him?" Rakio questioned incredulously at the fox's apparent immaturity.

"It started when Terraff was thanking Aroth for shooting Telos off the walls. She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him in thanks, and since Isan is bored out of his mind and Aroth is the medic that typically changes his bandages and such, Isan has been taking every opportunity he has in an attempt to make his situation more amusing."

"I didn't mean to cause problems for him." Terraff said almost apologetically.

"I know, Aroth knows, and Isan knows. In all fairness to him, Isan doesn't mean anything by it. He just likes seeing the look on Aroth's face. He thinks it's funny for some reason."

"Hey Sekn, it's only a mile and a half to the foot of the mountain range, right?" Rakio asked, both to reassure herself and to get the group back on task.

"Mile and a third actually." The wolf corrected.

"Okay, let's double time it then. That will get us there in around fifteen minutes." The dark-furred she-wolf suggested.

"I'll see you all there, then." The leopard agreed.

The mountain range had no foothills; the flat, frozen, starlit plains were abruptly interrupted by the massive stone cliffs of the mountain range that made up the spine of the newly liberated enemy territory. After a quick discussion, the four captains and their officers decided to pair up the platoons. Each pair would have one member of either Jethro's or Sekn's assassins (who were much more experienced and superior climbers), and one of Terraff's or Rakio's warriors. In this way, those who were more confidant climbers could help those who were more likely to struggle. They could all regroup at the top, and plan their approach from there.

Jethro ended up grouped with a weasel private named Alfo from Terraff's platoon, and a female stoat corporal from Rakio's platoon named Aisha. They opted to tail Sekn's group of four up the almost forty-five-degree, seventy foot rock face.

The first large part of the climb could not have gone more smoothly. They had picked a route that was rife with pawholds all the way to the top, and the captains spent most of the climb pointing them out to their companions, or, in the rare case of there not being a pawhold in reach, letting the smaller creatures use their shoulders, knees, armor joints, or elbows as pawholds. It wasn't until the very top, when Aisha's hold on the leopard's shoulder slipped, that they had a problem. The stoatess fell.

Fortunately, she didn't fall more than a few feet before she managed to grab something to arrest her fall: Jethro's tail.

The sharp, almost blinding agony of having the long appendage yanked downwards by a one hundred and thirty pound deadweight not only turned Jethro's original cry of worry toward the stoatess's plight into a scream of pain, but also lead him to make a mistake that, if not for Sekn, would have sent both creatures to their deaths: he let go of the rock.

Already moving in a vain attempt to catch Aisha, Sekn lunged forward and grabbed Mortspear's forearm. Jethro latched on to the tan wolf's arm in return, accidentally unsheathing his thorn-sharp claws and sinking them into Wintersand's arm in pain and panic. The wolf returned the favor, hooking his own claws into the dark-furred feline.

Alfo and the other three creatures, a young wolf private from Rakio's platoon named Farren, and two weasels from Terraff's platoon named Novan and Orkks, who were already safe at the top, were not idle. The second they saw Sekn lunge forward and grab hold of the leopard, they rushed to aid them, and together, the five managed to pull both leopard and stoat back to safety on the ledge.

"I am so sorry!" Aisha exclaimed, releasing Jethro's tail as if burned by it. "Are you alright, sir?" She fretted nervously.

Biting his lip through the lingering pain, the leopard nodded. "It's okay; you did what you had to. I'm fine, I think. I don't think anything's dislocated, but I'll get Aroth to check later, just to make sure." The green-eyed cat turned his attention to Sekn's arm. "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't mean to. Are you okay?" He apologized, casting a look at the canine's bloodied forearm.

The wolf waved off the injury. "I'm fine; it's no more damage than I did to you." He answered, pointing at Jethro's equally clawed arm.

After hooking up with the others, the group made their way without incident to the fortress, using the distant roars and brief flashes of the explosions as a guide. This endeavor took them, as predicted, until around three in the morning to complete. Finally, the sky still dark, and the stars still shining brightly, they stood on a ledge directly above the western wall of the Wolverine capital of Gulosval, or Gulo's Victory in the wolverine royal family's secret tongue.

Having already passed out the maps to their squad leaders, they wasted no time in breaking out several thick, eighty foot long ropes, and rappelling down onto the wall; the battlements deserted except for a select five sentries, who were quickly silenced by ferret daggers, led by Aroth, who was the first to strike, driving his long dagger into the fox sentry's kidney. Jethro was the last to descend, staying behind briefly to coil the ropes back at the top and hide them from enemy eyes as well as hide the bodies of the slain sentries, which were hoisted up using the rappelling ropes, and thrown down a crevasse on the other side, never to be seen again. He then clambered down to the wall top unassisted, leaping the last few feet. They were finally in.

After descending the wall into the city proper, they quickly found their position within the city, and using the maps, made their way to forty-three Bloodaxe Street (named for a wolverine war hero), the house of Calvin and Jaun. The city was deserted, all able-bodied creatures (most of which were press-ganged into service and were forced to serve the wolverines and had no loyalty to them) had been sent to the front of the city to combat the fires springing up from the stormpowder explosions, and the cubs too little to serve hid in their beds in fear of the thunderous noise.

Sekn knocked on the door. "They had better answer this." He muttered darkly.

They did. The door was opened by an old wildcat leaning on a cane. "Password, dark warrior?" He creaked sarcastically.

"Verdauga." Sekn answered.

"I suppose I should let you all in then." The wildcat responded, stepping aside to let the group pass through the door. "There sure are a lot of you. I should introduce myself, shouldn't I? I am Jaun. Calvin isn't here right now; he got called to help with the fires at the front of the city."

Jethro nodded at the wildcat's observation. "Yep, four platoons, two teams. One team to open the gates, the other to assassinate everyone in the palace. I'm Jethro Mortspear, and this is my second-in-command, Aroth."

"Sekn Wintersand, and my Beta, Fell." The tan wolf said, referring to a black wolf carrying a spatha and several daggers.

"Terraff Whitefur, and my Beta, Carthen." She continued, introducing a ferret armed with a cutlass and a dagger.

"Rakio Stormfur, and my Beta, Harko." The captain finished, pointing at a dark grey wolf armed with a maul.

"It's good to meet all of you. I expect that once you get your soldiers settled in, you would like to watch the bombardment. It really is quite spectacular."

"Shit." Jethro said, awestruck as he watched the explosives fall like rain and detonate with unparalled destruction. "You wolves _hate_ these beasts, don't you." The leopard commented as he watched the city burn and be torn apart all at once.

At that moment, several barrels went off in usion, creating an unearthly roar three times louder than the usual blasts. These barrels also landed in the same building, and everyone watching was now treated to the sight of the three story building being ripped apart and the debris scattered fifty yards in all directions.

"You have no idea." Rakio said coldly as they watched the blast. "But at times like these, even I, who is raided by wolverines more often than most, am only able to comfort myself with the knowledge that the innocent creatures we are undoubtedly slaying right now are the same ones that we are fighting for in the long run."

"It's true. Once, I was on a lone assassin mission; ordered to kill a wolverine general visiting a quarry. I saw a cub that couldn't have been more than seven seasons old get eaten alive for not being able to haul a rock twice his size." Sekn looked Jethro in the eyes. "Believe me. As much damage as we are doing to these civilians right now, they're better off in the long run. In our society, everyone is cared for. If a family is late on taxes one season, their youngest cub isn't publicly executed to cut costs for the family. We just ask that they pay what they can, when they can. We don't pressgang our soldiers into service holding knives at their families' throats or chase them toward the enemy with whips at their backs and their cubs under threat of execution. Every beast in our military is a volunteer." The sand-furred wolf gestured to the city being ripped apart with fire and thunderous force before their very eyes. "We aren't perfect, and it sucks, but ultimately, we're fighting as much for their sakes as ours."

"The wolverines really treat their citizenry that way?" The leopard questioned, appalled.

"Not citizenry. Wolverines don't have citizens, just slaves and dinner." Sekn corrected coldly, his eyes full of hate for the enemy.

Meanwhile, Aroth and Fell were watching from a different room. "We have never used this much stormpowder on any other fortress in the entire campaign combined." Aroth observed, opening a cabinet. Finding a bottle of wine, he poured two glasses and passed one to his friend. "To victory, at long last."

"That's because we've been saving it for now." The wolf responded, accepting the glass. "To victory indeed, my friend." Taking a sip of the wine, he swirled it around in its cup. "You have any family where you come from?"

Aroth nodded. " Jethro's parents. I had a vixenfriend too, but she cheated on me and we broke up a week before we left. My father was killed in action when I was three, and my mother was ambushed and eaten by river dragons while gathering water at a stream two seasons later. I was raised primarily by Jethro's family."

"I'm sorry for your losses." Fell said sincerely.

Aroth shrugged. "Thanks, I didn't know them that well. What about you, anyone back home?"

The wolf nodded. "My wife just gave birth to our first cub. It's a female."

"Congratulations mate!" Aroth said, punching the wolf lightly on the shoulder

"Thank you."

"What have you decided to name her?" Aroth asked, taking a drink.

"Freyja, after my aunt."

"It's a good name for a cub."

Fell was quiet for a moment. "It's odd, isn't it, how something can be as destructive as the sight before us, can be so beautiful in some ways as well." He commented, amazed and appalled at the pyrotechnics in front of them.

"I agree." The fox said in return. "Worse yet, it brings to mind the question 'What will our cubs fight their wars with when they are grown?'"

"That my friend, is a sobering question indeed. For if this is what we fight with, Vulpuz bless them through the horrors that they will face."

**AN:** Well, here it is, it's the halfway point of book one. Only five chapters left (and possibly an epilogue, I haven't decided) before I begin work on Book Two: In Service of Salamandastron. Don't worry; I won't post the last chapter (or epilogue) until Book Two: Chapter One is up. That way ya'll can have a smooth transition. I'd like to thank all the readers who have stuck with this this far.

Yes, Fell, was a reference to the books _The Sight_ and _Fell_ by David Clement-Davies. Go read them, they're awesome.

Also, if she will allow me, I will take a cue from Sarraa Luna. As of now, both I and the characters of "Thirty Seasons Later" will be taking questions until the end of Book One. Possibly Throughout Book Two as well. You can ask questions to anyone from Jethro Mortspear, to King Meskochad, anyone that has made an appearance and is not dead yet.

Last: here is the species size ratio: rats/mice/shrews/moles= hobbit-sized, squirrels/hedgehogs= dwarf=sized, weasels/ferrets/stoats/mongooses= 5 feet-5'8", otters/foxes/wildcats= 6-7 feet, badgers/wolverines/ratels= 10-11 feet, leopards/wolves= 12-13 feet (special note: Jethro is about 11'5", he's a little small for his species)


End file.
